Literature

Watermelon

Loneliness is to give the body to the self who will not keep it. * Ahgong is an atheist. Watermelons cut, cubed. The closest thing to supper he could a...

what i try remembering

in my mind, a gallery of windows, sun melting across glass. i track differences: hair grown past your ear, fingertips heavier on shoulder blades. to shar...

My Family is not a Cloud

short story | Roshan Singh Some light crept in through the bedroom door and took a seat by the little girl’s bed. Hey, how you doing? The girl flashed a...

Loss

poem | Professor Anju Mary Paul photo | Vice-Rector Eduardo Lage-Otero He died and I wasn't there.   

Ninety-seven years old. My grandfather.  
In his ...

Traveling with Grief

story | Professor Robin Hemley photo | IowaNow My sister had been sick for a long time, and when she died of a prescription drug overdose, it was not entirely...

For Snowy, the dog I barely knew

I only disliked her tongue—wagging loco- motion, frantic playfulness and un- welcome wet when I got too close. I would   hide under the table to av...

the aftermath of my toilet

when you left, your hair clogged the sink again. it rises with the water, seaweed lungs breathing past every lover's stain, yet planted into grime. my hands...

Fresh

Poem by Paul Jerusalem, Guest Writer   i. What they don’t show you on prospective student brochures is the gap between each tile, how differently v...